Overrated
by Melshador
Summary: I haven't slept properly in two months. Do you want to know why? Well, maybe it's best if I didn't tell you. But then again, you might enjoy it. After all, who doesn't enjoy a good ghost story? OC


So I went to open up my wordpad to continue with my Contagious Chemistry story, and this came out instead. It's based on a song I was listening to at the time and I just had great inspiration. I wrote some of the lyrics under this, so check the song out, it's awesome^^ I'm not sure if I should continue it or not, but I kinda liked it. Not sure, tell me what you think, okay? c:

Disclaimer: Naruto's Masashi Kishimoto's. Not mine.

Warning: Probably swearing and violence. I also creeped myself out writing it, if that counts.

* * *

Now this ghost in my bedroom it gives me advice,

He promised one day that he'd teach me to fight.

Now when I think that I'm alone, he comes up my way with a devil's smile singing,

"This is now my home. You're my wish come true."

When you reach that golden cloud, I'll be there with you.

Mayday Parade - Ghosts

* * *

Living on the outskirts of Konoha sucked. It really did. The walk just to get shopping was almost an hour, making the journey completely ridiculous. I had asked my father about moving closer to the village, but he had just complained about the amount of ninja and how 'dangerous' they were.

To be honest, when I was younger it had been my dream to become a ninja. Now going on 20, the idea didn't really appeal to me much more. I had grown out of the dream, realizing that being a ninja required serious concentration, loyalty and dedication. I lacked most ninja-like qualities so I shrugged off the idea sadly. Besides, like my dad says: 'Ninja's are overrated anyway. You're only somebody else's tool. You can never be free.' Of course, I did protest. Were we ever free? Didn't we spend our entire lives as somebody else's tool, whether you're a ninja or working a dead end job in some bar every weekend for the rest of our lives?

I sighed, shifting the carrier bags of shopping in my arms so I had a better grip. It was a normal day in Konoha. My dark tee-shirt and shorts absorbing the sun's light rays causing me to sweat a little, the faint sound of children playing in the background as well as the delicate sway of the trees as a light wind passed through them. Yes, everything in Konoha was normal.

My arms ached with tiredness as I continued to carry them through Konoha's dusty roads, as I walked off of the usual track. My house was just on the outskirts of Konoha, and I never realized how long it took to get to the shops and back until your arms are screaming in protest as you walk back through the forest with no motivation to go on. Of course it's gotten easier over the years, yet it still was tiring. I'm not a civilian for nothing, ya know.

As I stepped over fallen leaves entering the forest, I knew I had reached my half way point. I was half tempted to drop the shopping and just lay in the crimson leaves and just contemplate life. Yes, I was one of those characters. The ones who brood about life and contemplate the idea of death. Not literally killing myself, but what happens after death. Like, do you get reincarnated? That's what some people believe. Or do you become a ghost, spending the rest of your time haunting the people who caused you misery. I liked to think about things like that. Other peoples thoughts and ideals fascinated me.

Let me start here. My name was Kaminari Muranaka. You can just call me 'Ri' though. Not because I like it, but my name's too long, 'Nari' isn't a nickname and 'Kami' which only expands my ego. My last name 'Muranaka' was unbelievably ironic. It meant 'one who lives in the centre of the village' or something like that. I found it funny because we lived on the outskirts. My dad wasn't so easily amused by it though. I was 19 years old and still lived with my dad. Pretty awesome right? Wrong. There was nothing wrong with my dad, I just didn't want to live there for the rest of my life, which he understood. Our family isn't part of any sort of clan, but our ancestors have always lived in Konoha, hence why we continue to live here today. I think that's why my dad hasn't moved us to a non-shinobi village yet.

Still trudging through the forest which is so familiar to me, I could feel my navy blue hair stuck to the back of my neck through the heat. Even though the forest provided me with shade, the air was still humid. I shifted the shopping bags in my hands yet again, and picked up my pace, eager to get home and to have a shower.

I live with my father only. My mother had died from illness back when I was young enough not to remember her, so I didn't feel too bad about it. My father did take good enough care of me without her though. He did seem to have a strange vendetta against Shinobi though, which I wasn't too sure on, yet I never asked him about it.

The forest began to even out as I got closer and closer to my home. As my house came into view, I began to pick up my pace some more, avoiding the branches and tree stumps scattered around. As the image of my house got larger and larger, I could see somebody standing outside it, surrounded by camping bags. This person happened to be my father. He was decked from head to toe in some ridiculous camouflage outfit. He even had his hood up, yet I could still see tufts of brownish grey sticking out at the sides.

I sighed yet again, as I approached my father. I finally dropped the shopping bags off right outside the door, providing relief to my arms as I stretched them, trying to get the stiffness out. I walked up to my father, my eyebrow raised.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked, stifling a laugh. He looked completely insane. There's no way I'd let him go out looking like that.

"Into the village. I'm going to talk to the Hokage about moving arrangements." My father's gruff voice replied, tightening the rope around his middle with his camping equipment in. I stopped. Moving arrangements? Is he serious? I tried my best to contain my excitement, but the happy tone in my voice gave it away.

"Really? I mean, are you serious? Why now?" I tried to look as calm as I could. I had always wanted to move closer to the village. It would stop the ridiculous walks and the continuous aching of my arms. I've tried to persuade my father to hire ninja for a D-ranked mission to collect our shopping, but as always when something shinobi related, he dismissed the idea.

"You ask too many questions, Kaminari. Now go put the shopping away so you can wish your old man goodbye properly." He grumbled out. I smiled. As grumpy and moody as my dad can be, he was still my dad and I loved him all the same.

I took the shopping and pushed the door open with my elbow to get in. Our house was small and wooden. When I say wooden, I mean apart from the house being made from wood, so was our table, chairs, and pretty much everything else. My parents must have liked the idea of a wooden house, and took the idea quite literally. But it was nice. Cozy, you could say. Although that didn't stop me from contemplating the idea of it burning to the ground with us along with it if a forest fire broke out.

I hastily put the shopping away, eager to see my dad off. Not for the fact that he would be gone, but because the quicker he gets there, the quicker he can get back and we can move. After shoving the tins and packets of food into the (wooden) cupboards, I jogged back outside to see my dad attempting to carry his bags, and failing.

I grinned at his attempt and went to assist him. His grumbled out his thanks and turned to look at me. "I'll only be gone a few days. A week at the most. I know you can handle yourself, but take care of the house. I want it still in pieces when I return." I laughed, grinning yet again and putting my thumbs up in a sign of agreement. As he gave me a quick hug, he began his journey to Konoha. Or at least he would have if I wasn't so damn nosy.

"Hey dad, why are you consulting the Hokage about moving? As part of Konohagakure, we already have housing permission. And the village is only an hour away, so why are you taking your camping equipment?" It was a legitimate question and I was curious to know the answer.

Father just smiled at me, his eyes crinkling just like an ageing man's would. "Like I said Kaminari, you're too damn nosy for your own good, you are. When I say moving house, I literally mean moving the house. I'm sure the shinobi are capable of doing something to help move it. Depending on how long it takes for them to figure it out if it's possible, I brought my camping kit in case I need to stay over night." My dad said, uttering the word 'shinobi' with disdain.

That made much more sense, and I was satisfied with the information. I nodded, grinning yet again. The idea of keeping our cozy, wooden house and being closer to the village was an exciting concept. Maybe a scroll or something could seal the house, and then unseal it in the village or something? I wasn't too sure, shinobi business confused me, hence why I wasn't one.

He gave a me a pat on the shoulder and begun walking. "Stay safe!" I called out to him, him replying with a faint 'Always'. I turned back to my house and walked in, closing the door softly behind me. I can't believe I let him walk towards the village in that ridiculous outfit. I shook my head, laughing. I should take a shower, then cook something to eat before sleeping.

Walking up the (wooden) stairs and into my bathroom, I bent down to run the cold tap, before standing up straight again and looking at my reflection in the mirror above my sink. My navy blue hair was choppy and uneven. My fault, for trying to cut it myself a few years ago. I had grown used to it and decided that I liked it, letting it grow down no further than my shoulders. It still had a layered look to it though, which looked somewhat natural despite it being unintentional. My fringe was all over the place, covering most of my left eye. It was a nuisance, but like I said, I had grown to like my hair so it didn't really bother me much more.

My bright coloured eyes scanned my face, looking for imperfections. When I say bright, I mean bright blue. Yes, blue hair and blue eyes, funny isn't it? No, I didn't think so either. They were neither light nor dark, yet they were bright. It was hard to describe. I didn't pay much attention to my eyes though, as they weren't the most appealing characteristic I owned. Not that I payed much attention to my face at all, really.

My skin was neither pale, nor tanned. It was just a healthy pink colour. A few freckles covered my cheeks, and a few on my nose, giving me an almost childish look. I don't mean 12 year old childish, I meant just younger than 19. They were rather annoying, yet it's not like I could just magically make them disappear.

I had the usual curvy body of most 19 year old civilians. My arms had a little muscle on them from continuous shopping trips, but my legs were weak. I would have never been able to become a shinobi with a weak body like this. I just wasn't cut out for the work.

Shaking my head of my thoughts, I grabbed a towel from the pile, and hooked it over the shower rack. Undressing and slipping into the shower, I managed to wash all thoughts of becoming a shinobi away, and focusing on how content I was feeling as the cool, yet soft water rained down over me, dying my blue hair temporarily black.

Twisting the knob and turning off the shower, I frowned and jumped out rather ungracefully, feeling the cool air leave goosebumps over my body. Quickly drying myself, I redressed myself in the same dark outfit, and used the towel for attempting to dry off my hair. Realizing my efforts were in vain, I stopped, just leaving it to dry off within time.

I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to make myself something to eat. To be honest I wasn't the most brilliant cook, and usually required much assistance. This is probably why I still live with my father at the age of 19. I wouldn't even be able to make myself a decent meal, yet my father's leaving me here so he must rely on my cooking skills a tiny bit at least to get by.

Finding some instant ramen I bought today at the shop, I boiled the kettle and waited for the water to heat. The house felt strange with my father gone. I was usually the one to go out mostly to the shops to buy the necessary items, and sometimes he'd come with me, so to being alone in my home was rare. The last time he went out was longer than a year ago, when an old friend invited him camping somewhere in the Land Of Fire. He was gone for 2 whole weeks and I managed just fine without him then.

So why did this time feel so different? I couldn't put it into words if I tried. The feeling's weird, and it's been there ever since he had left. The sound of silence unsettled me. Usually the wind was blowing and the sound of swaying branches calmed my nerves. Animals such as birds in the forest made noises and became a regular rustling sound we heard. But there was now nothing.

I knew there had been wind earlier, I felt it. I enjoyed the breeze, granting me a few seconds of bliss as it blasted me with a rush of cool air. But it had disappeared from my walk back from the shops until now. It was uncomfortable. The forest was too silent, and it was agitating.

Realizing the kettle had boiled and cooled itself down within the few minutes I had been thinking, I quickly tore off the lid and filled my ramen with the hot water. I placed it onto my (wooden) table, and grabbed some wooden chopsticks from the counter. After my ramen, I'd sleep my worry off. There was no use in worrying about nothing, after all. But I was wrong, so wrong.

Digging into my ramen, I realized I didn't let it soak for long enough, causing the noodles to be hard. I frowned, stabbing my chopsticks harder into them, attempting to eat the sorry excuse of a meal. One of my arms were propped on the table, something my dad usually argued against, and my hand was holding up my head as I forced the uncooked ramen into my mouth.

Screw this, ramen was the worst. Giving up on the ramen, I just left it on the table, reminding myself to clean it up tomorrow morning. It was getting rather late now, and the sun had now descended, leaving the dim twinkling of stars visible in it's wake. I faintly wondered if my father was at the village yet and was safe, but I must of been in the shower longer than I had originally planned, as there was no orange glow of the setting sun. I briefly frowned. I liked watching the sun set. It was my favourite time of the day. I went around my home closing all windows and making sure the doors were locked properly. I slowly trailed myself upstairs, turning out lights and keeping one candle on me, so I don't trip over objects I've left strewn across my bedroom floor.

Opening the (wooden) door to my bedroom, I glanced inside, my eyes scanning over the usual objects in the dim light the candle provided. Everything was as it should be, which is good because that wouldn't have helped my paranoia much. Undressing myself into a set of comfy pyjamas, I silently crept into my (wooden) bed, placing the candle onto the bedside table next to it. I half debated whether I should read a book, glancing at my (wooden) bookcase, biting my lip in thought. Deciding against it, as I have had a long day, I just snuggled closer into my bedsheets, not before blowing out the candle, and closing my eyes to sleep.

* * *

This was the first night I felt it. I opened my eyes groggily, my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. I gathered that it was late at night, as the only light I could see was the moon's which was mostly blocked by my curtains, only allowing a certain amount to illuminate my bedroom. I shivered. I instantly knew something was wrong. My house was never cold. Not in winter, and most definitely not in the middle of summer. But the chill that ran down my spine leaving goosebumps in it's wake did not lie. It was freezing.

My breath came out slowly, although I was panicking on the inside. I tried to keep calm, deeply breathing and trying to convince myself that I was either still asleep having a nightmare or I had come down sick or something. Even in the dim lighting, I could still see my breath from the coldness of the night. That convinced me, there wasn't anything wrong with me, something was wrong with the room.

I scanned my eyes around the room in a slightly panicked manner, as my deep breathing attempts were not working. That's when I first felt it. The feeling of being watched. It was chilling, and downright terrified me. I've never had the feeling of being watched before, so it unsettled me to no end. In books when people mention they had the 'feeling of being watched' I never really understood it, and had thought that they were just being paranoid. But Kami, this feeling, this overwhelming feeling was unbearable.

Just when I thought it couldn't get much worse, as my eyes flitted across the room once more, I saw something which made my eyes widen in fear and made my breath stop. A figure in the corner. Just a big, black figure. Watching. Watching me. It wasn't moving, yet I knew that this was the real thing. Whatever it was. Was it human? It had to be. The possibility of it being inhuman made me choke on the air I had neglected to breath in.

Oh Kami, I don't know how long I layed there, watching the figure with wide, fearful eyes. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, but I could feel it. I could feel it's eyes on me. I could feel it's eyes piercing into my very own, looking at me. Looking straight through me. I felt as though it could see into my very being, even though all I was looking at was black. It made me feel exposed, and I hated it. Yet, I didn't have the courage to do nothing except stare at the beast, my eyes never leaving it except to blink. Like I said, I lacked most ninja-like qualities.

It must have been hours, because the next thing I knew was opening my eyes, hearing the usual tweeting of birds and sunlight was streaming in from behind my curtains. I shot up out of bed, feeling safer in the daytime. I could recall everything that happened last night, and as my eyes quickly darting to the same place the figure was, there was nothing. My brows furrowed, and I sighed from relief. I was confused, relieved and scared all at the same time. I don't even remember closing my eyes. I sagged back down, sitting on the edge of my bed and burying my head into my hands.

I wanted my dad home. I felt safe with my dad, shinobi or not. Realizing how childish I sounded, I quickly shook my head, shaking the thoughts away. I cautiously got up and walked into my bathroom, a towel which I was holding trailed loosely behind me. Looking at myself in the mirror above the sink, I immediately noticed my eyes. They had deep, dark coloured bags underneath them. I scowled, I've always hated my eyes

* * *

It was the eighth day. The eighth day it had been there. Just watching me, unmoving in that same, cursed corner that it just stood in. Sleep had been almost impossible, and I had been finding myself drifting off into sleep in random intervals during the day. I had lost weight too, finding myself without much of an appetite for the past few days. Another thought had hit me though. Where was my dad? Didn't he say he would only be a few days? It's been just over a week, and I haven't even heard from him. I was worried sick, but I was so distracted to think much about it.

To be honest I was too distracted with the monster in the corner. I wasn't too sure about what it was any more, yet after 8 days, it didn't make it any easier to deal with. If anything, it just became harder. I feel like I had almost adjusted to the frozen feeling of the room. That, or I just didn't feel it any more. The unbearable fear that I had felt never went away, day or night. It was always with me, whatever I did and wherever I went.

* * *

By day ten I was losing it. I felt watched, day and night. It was as though instead of just at night, it was all the time. As though it was following me everywhere. The deep worry of my father had slowly turned into fear that he had been injured in his journey to Konoha, yet I dared to venture out into the woods. I was too afraid. And I hated myself for it. I had stopped asking myself the question 'What is it?' as my own thoughts of monsters, ghosts and demons only made the fear worse. I just couldn't deal with that.

* * *

Day fourteen was different though. After 2 whole weeks of torture, there was nothing. No shadow in the corner, no chill in the air and no deafening silence. It had stopped. I still felt the fear though. Now more than ever. Where had it disappeared to? Why had it stopped now? Heck, why had it appeared there in the first place? I have lived in this wooden house for 19 years, so why now? And for the love of Kami, why me? I felt as though I was going crazy, heck I probably was.

The paranoia I had initially felt on day one never left me either. A creak in the floor, a rustle of a bush, anything had me turning around with the closest object held defensively. I felt as though I was never going to be the same again. And to be honest, I wasn't. Food was running out, and I knew I would have to venture through the forest and into the village for supplies within the next day or so. They had only survived this long because of my lack of appetite.

* * *

Day 15, and I had to leave. Now. To the village for food, otherwise I would starve. I had contemplated telling the Hokage about the nightly visitor I had, but I decided against it. This felt private, and the thought of telling anybody made me shiver. Even so, I had to confront the Hokage either way, asking the whereabouts of my father. I slipped on my shoes and grasped the door handle tightly, before twisting it and yanking the door open.

I probably looked a mess as I ran into the village at full speed. You could even say I looked panicked somewhat. My eyes constantly wide from the sleepless nights and my appearance which had taken a turn for the worse when I looked in the mirror a few days ago and realized I had dark, black lines underneath my eyes, as though someone had tried to put eye-liner on me, and failed. My complexion was pale and altogether I looked pretty damn unwell. I have a faint memory of my hairbrush smashing into the mirror not long after, but it wasn't important to me.

The forest had been completely normal, just like it had always been. But I was determined not to forget about everything that has happened to me and to just casually write it off and pretend the shadow wasn't real. Because it was.

The villagers gave me weird looks, but I ignored them all. First Hokage, second shopping. I left fairly early in the morning, giving me plenty of time during the day to shop, so I didn't have to rush. The Hokage building was massive and pretty much visible throughout the whole village. Slowly making my way towards the tall, red building, the unfamiliar feeling of safety rushed throughout me. Maybe because in this village of ninjas, the Hokage was the strongest, and I believed in the strength the Hokage had could protect me against this monster. I thought again about whether it's a good idea not to tell her, but my mind was already made up. Nobody was to know of this. No one.

The ninja inside the Hokage building sat at a desk immediately let me through as soon as I had mentioned that my father had been missing for 2 weeks. I think my appearance had something to do with it as well, considering I looked sleep deprived and sickly.

I knocked twice on the Hokage's door before I heard a faint 'enter' before letting myself in. Sat at the Hokage's desk was a young, blonde haired woman, with unusually large breasts and hazel coloured eyes. She was actually really pretty, despite her angered look. When turning to look at me, her expression softened slightly, but she still kept a stern face on.

"Hokage-sama. I was um, wondering if you knew the whereabouts of my father, Itsuo Muranaka. He left to confront you about our housing position just over 2 weeks ago, and has yet to return. I was just wondering if he reached you?" I used my most polite tone when speaking to the Hokage. She has only been Hokage for about a year or so, but according to villagers, she was doing very well for the village so I couldn't complain. I have never seen, nor confronted her before though.

The Hokage furrowed her brows slightly in thought. She started to flick through some files before pulling out a relatively small one.

"Itsuo Muranaka, right? Yes, he visited me. Hm, it's strange though. He set out with some other ninjas because they need to produce a scroll efficient enough to seal the whole house in. This requires the structure, size, and so on. I sent 2 ninjas out towards your house to tell you, which successfully returned and said that you had gotten the message. You are Kaminari Muranaka right?" I slowly nodded at this, taking in what she said.

I froze. I had gotten the message? But I haven't been visited in weeks, let alone by any ninja. There was only one explanation I could think of. It. That monster. It was his fault, I knew it. I wasn't sure how to respond to the Hokage, so I did the only rational thing I could do in this situation. I ran.

Running out of the Hokage's office was pretty easy, even though she did call my name back. I just continued to run. Right, shopping then back to the house. No more playing. I'm done.

I grabbed a hell load of shopping, and ran back home as fast as I could. I bashed into a few people on the way, some giving me an evil glare, and the others just brushing me off. It didn't bother me either way though, because my mind was set on one thing and one thing only. The monster.

Even though it was about midday, the trip through the forest still made me shiver in fear. It was uneventful, yet I couldn't get the thought of the monster out of my head, making everything 10 times worse. Not even the aching of my legs from running or the screaming pain in my arms from all the shopping could stop me.

I quickly got home and threw the bags of shopping onto the table carelessly. Running upstairs, I opened my closet door and shoved my hands into the bundles of clothes, feeling around for something. When I felt cold, sharp metal I knew I had found it. A kunai knife I had found on the forest floor one day. I wasn't sure if I would ever need it, but it felt like a good damn time to try.

Within the next two months, there was nothing, and as much as I wanted to let this go, I just couldn't. The sharp kunai knife layed next to me in my bed, and sat on the bedside table, just waiting to be thrown. Still no word from my father, yet I knew he was in good hands with the Konoha ninja for now. The fear was slowly dying down, and I managed to clear my appearance up. I didn't look sleep deprived any more, and my healthy complexion was beginning to return. I was glad, because I didn't want my father to worry when he returned.

Just when I thought life would get back to normal, things took a turn for the worst. It was midnight, as always. I had just woken up from a nightmare. Yes, nightmares plagued me constantly. I told you, I couldn't let it go. But then I felt it. Again. The chill, the stare, and as my eyes widened in horror, I mechanically turned my head towards the dreaded corner where the monster used to stand.

It wasn't stood there though.

It was right next to my bed, leaned over so it's face was relatively close to mine.

I have never screamed so fearfully in my life, and before passing out, I was sure I saw red.

* * *

Eh, I'm not sure. It's probably got mistakes because it's 10 past 5 in the morning. Inspiration just hits at the worse times ever. Tell me what you think okay? Do ya like it? Don't ya? Do you know what the monster is? Ehe, bye :3


End file.
